#and locke gives me bad vibes

[helpimstuckinafandom]

So I decided to read Cruel Prince because one of these popular book series has to be good and Holly Black wrote Spiderwick so I trust her more than other authors and I'm 100 pages in and so far I like the protagonist her and her sisters are all valid for the way they feel in this situation and I'm mad curious to find out why Cardan is so cruel and all that I guess

[camplease]

almost didn’t add pyrrha and offered to make a follow up poll to pit the winner against her because i already knew it was gonna be a pyrrha sweep. but you know what maybe i’m wrong let’s see

also some of these feel like obviously wrong answers to me but my curiosity usually wins out over reason

[herearedragons]

tag the oc that's most likely to get stuck in a time loop and what kind of time loop it would be

[silentgravesdontexist]

Why is Isagi so damn scary?

[mihai-florescu]

This really was our yumenosaki academy♡

[highlyillogicalandroid]

Does anyone else think that Black Santa is just a lot less creepy than white Santa?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[milo-is-rambling]

I am so high I love you dabs I love you big bong rips I love you huge heavy bong I love you only having 20 dollars to my name and no plans but getting high and ignoring it I love you oh no I’m thinking about it

[carelesscuriosity]

standing outside in the cold b/c a child is 20 minutes late to class 🙃

[gladiatorcunt]

🍒🍦 ⸺ ᳂ cherry vanilla dr. pepper !!!

cw: afab reader, voyeurism, tashi and you make out while you get pounded, weird amalgamation of dehumanization/objectification/pet play, subby!art coded, spit roasting at the end, slight overstimulation, bizarre orgy vibes, mean dom!tashi to everyone but you <3, implied breeding/creampie kink, canon typical mind games, tashi sits in the cuck chair /j, implied romantic feelings but no mention of established romantic relationships, slight mxm, clit stimulation, one use of “mommy”

happy challengers day 🎾💚

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !

“Round 4 will be the last one, alright? Get ready, baby.”

You take deep breaths, clutching onto Patrick’s wrist. You lock eyes with Tashi, feeling syrupy sweet deep in your gut. She grins and unbuttons the top buttons of her shirt, leaving you three to your own devices for now.

The stretch of Patrick’s cock stings and burns a little but Art nipping at your hip bones helps distract you. Patrick pants against the nape of your neck, you feel so divinely tight he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

He keeps his voice low so Tashi can’t hear him, “Fuck-you feel incredible, i’d kill for this pussy, you know that.”

“Hook your arm around their neck, good boy.” Tashi instructs Patrick, leaning back in the hotel chair and palming her pussy at the sight in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He swiftly calls back, acting like he hadn’t said anything to you at all.

Patrick has you in a headlock, pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy with reckless abandon. Art is beneath the two of you, suckling on your clit like it’s a nipple he’s trying to get milk out of. He licks where you’re stretched around Patrick, drawing groans from you both and a chuckle from Tashi.

“Be a good dog and lap them up, okay? I’d hate to have to take away your toy privileges.” She sneers, sliding her damp underwear to the side and stroking her slit.

The “toy” in the equation isn't you.

You’re dead to the world, eyes bulging out of their sockets and nails trying to rip the white sheet to shreds. Your head and tits rock back and forth with Patrick’s thrusts, already on the brink of your fourth orgasm. You try to scream that you can’t take anymore, but you wanna make Tashi proud so you shut up.

“ ‘s so good…” Art hums into your mound, pecking little kisses onto it here and there.

His sounds are muffled but the vibrations send your eyes to the back of your head. The chair in the corner of the room creaks as Tashi gets up, and the second you lift your head and open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you with all the warmth she doesn’t give the men pleasing you. This isn’t about them, it never was.

“Patrick’s so big, Tashi-he’s unggggh-he’s gonna kill me!��� You whine, desperately pawing at her clothed breasts.

She coos and pulls her blouse up, bringing your hands to cup her tits and keeping them there, “Baby you know he’s not, this pussy can take a beating. I’d only give you the best toys.”

You nod wordlessly, pouting your lips. She gets the message and claims your lips in a searing kiss, luxuriating in the slick slide of your lips. She loves to make it messy, getting spit all over your mouths and letting it drip on the bed.

Art mewls and flicks your clit, trying to get your attention. You feel bad and try to pull away from Tashi, but she yanks you back into the kiss and bites your lip as a punishment. You hiccup into her mouth, startled when Patrick starts jackhammering into you.

Tashi typically has them alternate, but Art prefere to bury his face between your thighs and Patricks likes to play with fire by cumming inside your sore cunt. He doesn’t speak as much as Art does, but sometimes he holds Tashi stare as you two make out. They’ll have to retire from Tashi’s “employment” eventually, and they’ll be taking you with them when they do. All games of keep away end.

Patrick traces letters and shapes on the glistening skin of your sweaty back, sloppy hearts and ‘ I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U ‘ s.

You gasp and wrench yourself back to breathe. Art flattens his tongue and licks broad stripes over your labia. He nuzzles his nose into you, stopping to pant and take in your smell. He may be delusional, but he’s convinced that every part of you is so sweet. He honest to God can’t get enough, he’d lie in a puddle at your feet if you wanted him too.

Sometimes you feel torn when you fall into bed with your lovers. You’re too soft to be like Tashi, but that exact softness is exactly why you can’t handle being away from her for too long. Maybe you’ve fallen under her spell just like all the rest, but she puts her career on the line to prove how special you are.

Patrick pulls you up to rest your back against your chest. You let your head fall onto his shoulder and you moan when he adjusts the angle of his thrusts to rub against your cervix repeatedly. He wasn’t like this when the evening started, Patrick only roughens you up when you’ve been thoroughly run through and can take it with a dopey smile and glazed eyes.

“Keep going, it’s okay- want it-want you.” You cry out to Patrick, reaching down to caress his hip.

He smiles and licks your cheek, complying with your request.

Art grins up at you with his eyes, mouthing ‘That’s my angel, only for us.’ into the flesh of your inner thigh. He moves to Patrick balls and takes them into his mouth, bobbing them up and down with his tongue. Patrick moans as Art laves his balls in saliva. Art lets them fall out of his mouth, curling his tongue around the inches peeking out of your pussy and hollowing his cheeks out.

“Shit! Stop, ‘m gonna cum!” Patrick hisses through his teeth.

He either empties another load into you or he just refuses to cum if your pussy’s not available, period.

“They’re so hungry for it, aren’t they? Well, can he? Can our dog cum inside you, baby?” Tashi tsks, cupping your cheeks and bringing your attention back to her.

“Yes, yes, yes! He can cum inside-please let him cum inside mommy-i need it so bad-wanna be stuffed full with it!” You whimper and arch your back, jutting your tits out.

Tashi laughs and leans down to suck one of your pert nipples into her mouth, bouncing your other breast in her hand. Tears spill from your waterline down to her freshly manicured nails. Art has since gone back to sucking the life out of your clit, and the little wink he sends you doesn’t help you hold back your impending orgasm.

Patrick thrusts a few more times and then you’re cumming in sync. You go brain dead and your body locks up in his arms. You’re out of it for a good few minutes, and when you have full awareness again you see Art kneeling in front of you. He holds his dick out for you to gawk at, slowly pumping himself for your amusement.

Patrick hasn’t pulled out of your pussy but he doesn’t fuck you again, he jostles his hips to find the most comfortable position for his softening cock to plug you up.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He huffs and pushes you back down on all fours.

“You need your mouth taken care of too.” Art whines and squeezes his cock around the base, beckoning you closer with a ‘come hither’ gesture.

Said man is tenderly and carefully bundling up your hair in his arm and casting it aside, giving him ample space on your back to pet. He rubs the pink tip of his cock along your jawline, he gives you a fresh coat of lip gloss via his precum as he slaps your plump lips with his cockhead.

“It’s kinda like sucking off a dildo attached to a mirror, don’t think too hard about it.” Tashi tells you, crouching down to suck the small divot in your back.

She sits back in the cheap black hotel chair, shrugging her blouse off and pinching her nipples.

You moan at the first taste of Art’s cock, longer than Patrick’s but with less heft to it. You peer out of the corner of your eye to see if Tashi’s still watching, and you feel silly when you realize that she always is.

“Doing good, baby, keep it up.”

But that’s the thing, they’re all watching you now. It’s not hard to be a pathetic bottom that needs to be coddled and tended to at all times. It’s never difficult to stroke the fire in someone’s ego, you’ve had an easier job of that than anything else.

You saw them all together on the court, you were there for lessons that didn’t work out. Who knows how long ago, it feels like a lifetime, but all it took was one look to recognize what was destined to be yours. You couldn’t give less of a fuck about Tennis in actuality, but you sure do love the players.

They all have hearts in their eyes as they watch you. Art with his dick deep down your throat, his legs are trembling as he tries to stop himself from fucking your face. Patrick, still making a forever home for himself in your guts, his eyes are so dark you have to repress a shiver. And Tashi, knuckles deep in her pussy, finger fucking herself to the pretty little show her baby puts on with their toys.

When the boys are asleep, you’ll bounce on her ribbed strap until you shatter all over again.

Now, Is it cheating to win a game when people don’t realize that you're playing?

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai

[itsmeatballworld-library]

He wasn't afraid of loving you. He found it quite easy actually. As if breathing was second to this, to the way he held your hand during the day, and pulled you close at night.

No, loving you was the simplest thing he'd ever done in his life.

He was terrified of losing you.

oh my god oh my god oh my—

didn't know u were doing an event !!!! I'm glad I just caught it.

I'm excited wait okay so I want from the prompt list f. Scott Fitzgerald (? Not sure if I wrote it right)

❛ you are afraid of being in love then? ❜

with Jake lockley 🤍✨

THE UNKNOWN

a/n: i remember asking if we could do a different one, but this prompt made me actually want to break a part jake lockley's psyche and dig into his brain. so i ran with what is basically a character analysis. as always i suck at answering requests on time so this is late, but i hope you enjoy it regardless.

summary: he didn't know what love meant when it was unconditional, when there was no strings or requirements that had to be met. he didn't know what to do with it. where to put it. but you'd show him.

word count: 1.1k+

pairing: jake lockley x reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, like so much angst, jake is afraid of falling, comfort to the highest degree, unedited and unbetad and probably a mess of words.

He wouldn't meet your eyes—his hands clamped together in his lap as he bowed his head. Conversations weren't his forte. None that lasted longer than a quick greeting, an exchange of information, and the odd joke here and there. He didn't know where to place the words, where the meaning was meant to land; the fear of doing it wrong turned out to be his biggest hindrance.

Yet for a man who wasn't afraid...the realization was jarring.

"Jake..."

He let out a breath, squeezing his eyes shut, before they met yours briefly. "I'm thinking cariño."

Steven would have been the better person for this, the easier choice to give you. He understood how to speak without needing a moment to think, the words flowing with a simplicity Jake and Marc never had. A part of him nearly relinquished control, ready to step out of the limelight for a moment, as Steven conveyed what he wanted to say.

But you weren't here for Steven Grant. You weren't sitting there, a button down shirt covering your once naked body, drinking a mug of atole he made at the drop of a hat, for anyone else other than him.

What is this?

The question that brought a wave of dread in his body. A question he'd considered himself over the months of seeing you. He knew those words would fall from your lips eventually—knew that it would only be a matter of time before you asked for more. He simply wished he had more time to figure it out.

What were you to him? What was he to you?

Suddenly the thought of providing answers felt worse than fighting in the suit. He wished he could vanish, busy himself with something, but your eyes were an insistent burn on his skin. One that he longed to keep in place. Jake more often than not felt cold on the inside, as if someone turned off the light to his heart. But when you looked at him...the flame sparked to life—roaring through his body with a happy contented hum.

"Permanent," he said into his mug, shifting in his seat as he tried to find solace in the truth.

Even the word felt strange coming off his tongue. It must have been a mistake, wrong in some way he couldn't discern yet. Only his heart kept his consistent steady beat, assured and welcome to the slight change in the path.

Forever. Till time runs out. And even as the universe caves in on itself...this will remain.

Your lips pulled up into a smile, eyes shining with a look he could now place. Each time you caught his gaze, each moment you wore that look he felt the confusion linger. The question of what it meant rising up his throat.

Now...he could see it. As if the clouds finally parted and the moonlight shone down around you.

"I wanted to tell you sooner," he began, voice wavering slightly. He hoped you didn't notice. You caught every bit of himself he tried to hide away. "I'm not good with...mierda...this isn't—"

The scrape of your chair being pushed back startled him—his gaze wide as he watched you slip closer. Until your legs were settled on either side of his hips and you sat in his lap. His mug was discarded on the table in favor of grasping your hips, the warmth of your body a need he relished in.

If he could bottle this feeling up, carry it with him, he wouldn't hesitate.

"You are afraid of being in love then?"

Jake Lockley refused to let you in on the secret—the truth he kept from Marc and Steven. The reality of his heart that unknowingly stopped beating for him long ago. He swore he couldn't feel the thump of it beneath his chest anymore. It was a belief he accepted, something he could cling to. But when he ran into you on a whim, stuck in a library because of Steven, he felt his heart start up again with a vigor that terrified him.

He wasn't afraid of loving you. He found it quite easy actually. As if breathing was second to this, to the way he held your hand during the day, and pulled you close at night.

No, loving you was the simplest thing he'd ever done in his life.

He was terrified of losing you.

Of waking up one day to find that every moment, every touch, every kiss...was a figment of his imagination. He was horrified by the thought that someday in the future, you wouldn't be here to save him from himself. You wouldn't stand by his side, take his hand in yours, and kiss the knuckles with a reverence that broke him in half.

One day...you might see him as a monster rather than the man you gave your heart to.

"Te amo," he murmured against your palm as you cupped his face, thumbs pressing into his cheekbones. "I'm not afraid of being in love with you cariño. 'S too late for that anyways."

You breathed a laugh and Jake felt the valves of his heart snap off. "Then what is it?"

"You might...not like what you see inside there." Lifting your hands, he pressed them to his head, your thumbs finding a spot along his temples. "I don't want to scare you."

Relief spilled into his chest at your smile—at the soft laugh that fell free. He looked at you as if you hung the moon, as if he didn't possess the powers of the god. Because somewhere in his mind, he believed that you were a gift, a promise that one day things would be okay. That he might find the same amount of love in someone else he couldn't find in himself.

"You couldn't scare me even if you tried Lockley." He dug his teeth into the skin of his cheek, the pain leveling him—distracting him from the sting of tears. "I know you too well already. All of you."

His heart stuttered, hands gripping your hips a bit tighter until pain bloomed beneath the skin. It didn't affect you - barely skimmed the surface of your mind—because he wasn't grasping onto you, he was reaching for the balance that'd been unearthed from his feet. He clung to the steady rock you became. The piece of himself he didn't know he'd been looking for.

"Stop being afraid," you breathed against his forehead. "I'm here to catch you."

A shaky breath left his lips, his arms wrapping around your waist as he dragged you closer. You were everything he longed for, all that he needed to breathe properly. You were his heart made real.

For the first time, he took the final step off that unknown cliff that sent fear curling around his spine. He let out a sigh, closed his eyes, and...fell.

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[pedantic-poison]

Delicious | LN4

pairing: fem sainz!reader x lando norris

genre: SMUTTTTT, 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v, fingering, light choking, use of pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!!!!), language, hold the moan vibes, dirty talk, Lando being a hoe

requested: yes!

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i LOVE me some brother's best friend trope

When your older brother first joined McLaren, you were unbelievably proud of him, so, naturally, you moved heaven and earth to make it to his first race with the team. Meeting Lando, you finally understood why all of Carlos' stories from before the season started were about his new teammate, and how much he made him laugh. He was friendly to you, and kind, and had a knack for making sure you never felt out of place. He also made your chest go a little tight, but you chose to ignore that feeling. Best not to complicate things for your brother.

It's been years since you first met Lando, and you can't quite use that excuse to convince yourself you need to avoid Lando. You still try, certainly, but it doesn't really carry the weight it used to, not with Carlos at Ferrari now. Would it still be messy? Maybe. Would it be a complete shit show? ...Probably not, right?

That little tendril of doubt created just enough space for that weird feeling Lando elicited to bloom. And now, with the Summer break giving Carlos time off, he's invited Lando to your family's home, for an entire week.

"Morning," the sound of Lando's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. As if it wasn't already bad enough that he was staying in your house, now Lando had the audacity to show up in the kitchen, voice gravely from sleep, with a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low enough on his hips to show the V-line of his muscles there. Your eyes trailed up his torso, allowing yourself to indulge in his tan skin and taut muscles for just a moment, before your gaze met his. A knowing look danced across his face, eyes glinting with mischief, as he smirked at you over his mug of coffee.

"Oh, um, good morning," you coughed out, embarrassed at having been caught. "How'd you sleep?" you managed to force out.

Lando took his time, finishing his sip of coffee before answering, "Slept alright. Couldn't fall asleep for a while, for some reason, though." You couldn't quite decipher the look on his face while he said it, but he didn't give you enough time to overthink it. "You?"

Your face heated immediately at the reminder of what exactly you'd been doing last night, instead of sleeping. "F-fine, thanks." It had been four long days where Lando had made himself seemingly unavoidable. Even at night, when you could close your door to the rest of the house, and lock yourself away, your thoughts strayed back to Lando no matter what you did. Last night, the ache in your core had gotten so unbearable that you'd touched yourself to the thought of him. It seemed that even the walls of your room couldn't quite keep Lando out.

"What's got you thinking so hard over there, Sainz?"

You schooled your expression, refusing to let him throw you off balance again. "Wouldn't you like to know, Norris." The coffee mug in your hands hid your face rather well as you lifted it to take a sip, leveling him with a look that you hoped seemed like a challenge.

Pushing off the counter he'd been leaning against, Lando took a step closer to you. "I really, really would, actually."

You allowed yourself to lean in for just a moment, inhaling the smell of him, before pulling back. "Too bad." Chair legs scraping against the floor as you pushed away from the table, standing and taking your mug and book with you.

"Oh, come on! You're really gonna tease me like that?" he whined, shouting at your back as you headed up the stairs.

"Gotta make you work for it, Norris!" you called back, retreating into your room once again, giddier than you'd care to admit, and telling yourself that you'd only left because you had work to do. Certainly not because you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold on with Lando under the same roof.

Just three more days.

The loud splashes and laughter from outside drew your attention away from your book, for what felt like the hundredth time in two minutes. Sighing exasperatedly, you rolled over on your bed, craning your neck up to look out of your window.

Carlos and Lando were in the pool in the backyard below you, squealing like little kids as they hit each other with water balloons. You rolled your eyes at the childish behavior, even as you fought (and failed) to keep a smile off of your lips. You heard your father's voice ring throughout the house, and Carlos and Lando must've heard it too, because they quickly dropped their makeshift weapons at the call that they needed to get cleaned up for dinner. Your parents weren't terribly strict, but even they preferred for everyone at their dinner table to be fully clothed and not dripping everywhere.

Just as you'd made your way out of your room to head downstairs, you froze, finding a sopping wet Lando Norris in the hallway. Even after you (accidentally) ogled him this morning, you couldn't manage to keep your eyes on his as you watched the way the droplets of water fell off the ridges of his chiseled chest and torso. You hadn't quite noticed how close you'd come to running into each other, barely a foot of space between you, that seemed to shrink more and more the longer you stared. And you weren't the only one. The sundress you wore hung off your body in a way that made Lando want to memorize every line and curve of it himself. Looking wasn't enough - he'd always been more of a hands-on learner, anyways. And the way the gentle breeze swirled the skirt of it around your hips and legs made him want to find out if you were wearing anything underneath it. Made him want to rip anything he found there off with his teeth.

"Hermanita! Lando! Dinner in twenty minutes!" Carlos shouted up, from the sound of it in the kitchen, most likely helping your parents like the doting son he was. Helping, unlike you. Standing in the hallway, now only inches from Lando, chest rising and falling erratically as you tried to convince yourself that you should not fuck your brother's friend and former teammate in your parents' house with your entire family downstairs.

"Twenty minutes," Lando breathed, barely above a whisper. He took a final step forward, mouth painfully close to touching yours as his spread into a mischievous grin. "I can work with that."

His lips crashed into yours, hands gripping your face delicately as he did so, moving only after yours landed in his hair. Lando finally, finally, got his hands on those hips that had been torturing him, tempting him, for years, squeezing as he pulled you into him. Your fingers raked through his curls, tugging gently as you pushed him backwards into your room. He went willingly, grinning into the kiss at your enthusiasm as you kicked the door shut behind you, letting you take charge for the time being and falling to the bed when the backs of his knees hit it, hands dragging down your thighs as he went. For a moment, you paused, taking in the way Lando was looking up at you. Adoring. Reverent. Hungry.

His hands on your thighs urged you forward to straddle him, sliding his grip up your back to pull your torso flush with his. "God, these fucking tits," he groaned, squeezing you harder into his chest before sliding his hands around to your front, cupping them harshly. Through lidded eyes, you watched his hands, large, nimble, and veiny, knead your breasts while he hummed appreciatively, unable to look away from your chest for even a moment. "Been waiting to get my hands on you for so long, sweetheart," he heaved, speaking into your skin as his lips trailed over your exposed chest, just under your collarbone, punctuating the statement with a final, firm squeeze of your tits.

Before you could finish the whine building in you at the loss of his hands, Lando had yanked down the flimsy straps of your sundress, allowing your tits to spill out over the neckline. Lando swears he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes, "so fucking gorgeous." His lips found yours again, stealing your breath as one hand reached up to ghost over your nipple, already sensitive and hardening from the cool air in your room, while the other lowered to rest on your waist, gently urging you to rock your hips against him at your own pace. "So," his kisses now landed on your jaw, "so," your neck, "beautiful. I think it might actually kill me," gently nipping at your pulse point before soothing the tender skin with his tongue.

Your breath had grown shallow from the attention he paid to your neck and chest, hitching as he tweaked your nipple just right, almost harsh enough to be painful but light enough to make you crave more. But what caused your breath to quicken was the feeling of Lando under you. Those strong, muscled thighs, bracketed by your own, felt so firm you couldn't stop your mind from wondering how they would feel if you ground yourself against them. The way they tensed as he moved, or restrained himself from moving as he tried to let you set the pace, felt so delicious against your thighs and through layers of fabric, you can't imagine how they would feel flexing against your core. Delicious as those thoughts were, they would have to wait for another time, because nothing was more tempting than the press of his hard cock against you, straining at the material of his swim trunks, the remaining water of the pool dampening your already wet panties.

"Shh, sweetheart, we've got to be careful," Lando startles you, the hand that had been on your tits gently closing over your mouth, and only then did you realize just how much noise you'd been making. Your cheeks heated at the realization, feeling your breath catching in your throat, rapid and uneven, whimpers and whines and a whole host of other, embarrassing sounds trapped beneath the firm press of Lando's large hand. You were so worked up that even that thought, the sheer size of his palm against you, how those thick, nimble fingers would feel between your thighs, made you whine louder, hips speeding up as you sought some kind of friction. Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself onto him, harder, faster, hand tightening around your waist and thighs flexing underneath you. He was holding back, you could tell, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to fray that thread to its breaking point.

You wanted to make him snap.

There would be another time to savor this, to take your time, to memorize every inch of him, later.

You raised one of your hands from his broad shoulders, gripping the hand that covered your mouth and tapping twice. Immediately, Lando removed his hand, eyes filling with concern that he'd done something wrong, but before he could ask you were already whining again.

"Please, Lan," you begged, hips pressing down as harshly as you could manage. "Need you so bad, please, please," your voice was thin and breathy, and if you weren't nearly delirious from finally having this, having him, within your grasp, you might've been embarrassed by it. "Don't tease me, I c - can't take it."

Lando's head fell back with a groan, making no effort to silence himself as he did with you. "Fuck, darling, you want me that much, huh?" You nodded eagerly, hips continuing their grind as you felt Lando's cock twitch beneath you. "Such a desperate little thing, aren't you?" he asked, latching his mouth on the flesh of your breast, sucking a harsh mark into the delicate skin. Low enough that your family wouldn't be able to see, you realized, but dark enough that you'd have a reminder of him on your skin for the next few days. The thought made you flush with heat. The sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your tit shocked you out of your haze. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."

You blinked down at him, bleary eyed, "W-what?"

His grin was wicked as he looked up at you, "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated, and he didn't give you the time to gather yourself enough to formulate a comeback. "I asked if you were a desperate little thing for me? You desperate for me to fuck you stupid, darling?"

A whine escaped your lips, unbidden, at his words, and the look in his eyes told you he wouldn't let you deny its cause. "God, yes, Lan, yes I'm so desperate for you, want you to fuck me so bad, I - fuck -"

The sensation of his fingers sliding your thong to the side scrambled your brains again, scattering any thoughts you'd managed to gather. The rough, calloused pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and your body rocked violently into his hold, chasing the pleasure. "Keep talking to me, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Tell me all the filthy things my pretty little girl wants me to do to her," he whispered into your ear, lips going back to attacking your neck.

"W-want - want you to - ah- fuck me with your fingers, think about those p-perfect hands all the - fuck - t-time, want your thick fingers in me before you fuck me, Lando," you moaned out, pushing through even though your whines threatened to interrupt you.

"Good girl," he purred, sliding his middle finger through your folds, moaning into your neck at the feel of you. "So fucking wet f'me, darling, fuck," his left hand tweaked your nipple, as his right slowly sank a finger into you. The sound he let out was almost animalistic as he felt you clenching around him, reacting to the stretch that even one of his fingers made you feel. "Holy shit, you're so tight, baby," he lifted his head to be level with yours, wanting to watch your face as he touched you. "How am I gonna fit my cock into this tight little pussy of yours if you can barely take one of my fingers?"

The only answer you could give him was a needy moan, one that had his left hand going back up, not to cover your mouth, but to rest on your throat. "Shh, remember, sweetheart, you don't want your parents to hear us, do you?"

You shook your head fiercely, but immediately lost your train of thought again as Lando began to pump his finger in and out of you, slowly to let you adjust. His thumb landed firmly back on your clit, and the way he curled his long, thick fingers had him reaching a spot inside of you you'd never managed to reach before.

"What else do you want me to do, darling? Don't tell me you've already gone brainless? I've barely gotten started with you."

"Want more, Lan, want you to stretch me with your fingers so you can fuck me, want to feel you - oh, god," you barely managed to catch yourself before you screamed at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into you. Even though he was aided by your wetness, Lando slowed his pace as he let you adjust again, easing into you as gently as possible as he maintained his circles on your clit.

"Want to feel me what, sweetheart?" he encouraged, curling his fingers to that same spot, this time hitting it hit his index and middle fingers and making your brain short circuit.

"Want to - Lan - w-want, I, fuck," you babbled, head falling to the crook of Lando's shoulder as you struggled for words.

"Come on, now, darling, be a good girl and tell me what you want. You do want to be a good girl f'me, don't you?" He chuckled lightly at how quickly you nodded, head staying buried in his neck.

"I- I want t-to feel you in me, feel your cock in me, feel you stretch me out with it, f-feel you fill me up - stuff me full with you, with your cum, leave me dripping with it."

The hand on your throat tightened harshly, briefly, before both of Lando's hands were off you and working on his swim trunks. "Jesus christ, baby, you've got a dirty little mouth on you. Such a perfect fucking girl for me, darling, such a dirty little thing, god you're perfect," he mumbled the praises into your mouth, stopping every so often to kiss you tenderly, hungrily, as his hands made quick work of the tie on his swim trunks, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free. Your eyes widened involuntarily at the sight of it slapping against his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs and the red, leaking tip of his cock mesmerizing you.

You lifted your hips, allowing Lando to yank you closer to him until you hovered just over his cock, both of your hands bracing against his shoulders as one of his went under your dress to guide his cock through your folds.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please Lan, please, ple-"

You had to cover your mouth with your own hand this time, the stretch of his cock making your eyes water, tears springing from them. Lando stared straight into your eyes as he sank you down onto his cock, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a feeble attempt to silence himself. Both of his hands landed on your hips, gripping harshly as he held himself back from fucking up into you right away.

"God, baby you're so tight, you have such a perfect little cunt," he panted, eyes fixed on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression on your face. Finally, he bottomed out, the slow glide of his cock in you heavenly, fingers flexing against you as he forced himself to be patient.

A weak whimper left you despite the hand over your mouth as you slowly rose up, dropping harshly back onto Lando's cock and digging in your fingers at the sensation.

"Fuuuuuuuck," Lando ground out, hips bucking slightly up into you as you sank back down on him again.

It didn't take long for your legs to begin to shake, pace faltering as you grew tired. "Lando," you breathed out, head nestled in the crook of his neck again.

"Yes, darling?" His voice was thin, reedy, telling you he was just as affected as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

"Can't - can't," your own gasp interrupted you as the head of Lando's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "Too tired, need you to - god."

Lando chuckled, chest rumbling underneath your forehead, "You need me to do it for you, baby? You already too fucked out to move?"

"Please," you whined, unable to muster any embarrassment at the desperation in your voice. He knew he did this to you. Why bother trying to hide it?

Something in your neediness got to him, hands sliding up to your waist and squeezing as he gave himself a better hold on you. "That's a good girl. Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you."

He lifted you off his cock, before slamming you back down onto him, hips fucking up into you harshly. The feeling of him manhandling you with ease was nearly enough to make you come on its own, but that combined with the way he kept hitting that spot inside of you, over, and over, and over again? You were so close you felt like you were going to explode.

And Lando knew it, too. Could tell from the way your hands scrabbled for purchase on his muscular shoulders, the way your head went limp on his shoulder as you gave him complete control over your body, from the way you clenched around him, and when he dropped one of his hands to graze a thumb over your clit as he fucked up into you, you were helpless to do anything but collapse into his embrace as you rode out your high.

Lando continued to hold you up by your waist, limbs sluggish and heavy, as he chased his own high, spurred on by your whimpers of overstimulation. But what finally pushed him over the edge was the sound of your voice, wrecked and fucked out, whispering weakly in his ear, "Please, Lando, please fill me up."

He came with a groan that he tried to bury in your neck, nipping lightly at the skin as he came down, chest heaving and moving you with it since you still hadn't managed to regain control of your own body just yet. The feeling of him painting your walls made you whimper, unintentionally clenching around him again, which elicited a deep groan from him.

"You keep squeezing me like that, darling, and you're gonna get me hard again."

You giggled, which earned you a playful swat on the ass from Lando, chuckling along with you as he stroked your cheek tenderly, admiring you in your post-orgasm haze.

"Lan-"

"Dinner is ready! Hurry up and get down here, we're starving!" The sound of your brother's voice jolted both of you out of your stupor, matching looks of panic on your faces.

Before you could say anything else, Lando whispers, "We're talking about this later tonight, sweetheart." Placing a kiss on your cheek, Lando lifts you off of him, hissing at the feeling, and setting you on your bed next to him before getting up and running across the hall to his room.

After you managed to muster the strength to move, you quickly fixed your dress, trying to make sure that your face and hair weren't dead giveaways for just having had the best sex of your life. You rushed downstairs, blaming your breathlessness on having run to dispel your mother's concern, and sat down quickly, trying to avoid any questions about what had taken you so long.

A few seconds later, Lando joined you, sitting across from you, eyes burning into you in a way that made you shift in your seat. That turned out to be a huge mistake, because just as your brother passed you the salad, Lando's cum leaked out of you as you realized belatedly that not only had you not cleaned up, but you hadn't even put your panties back on. You froze, quickly shifting back and squeezing your thighs together in an effort to stop him from seeping out of you, and miraculously, none of your family seemed to notice.

But the way your eyes widened told Lando exactly what had happened.

When your parents asked how the dinner was, you stammered out some poor excuse of a response, not really knowing how to speak to your family with Lando's cum dripping out of you.

Lando shot you a wicked grin, winking quickly enough that no one else saw it, and stared right into your eyes as he answered.

"Delicious."

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨 ♡︎

characters: sub!AFAB!scar x gn!dom!reader

warnings: dissected organ and blood mentions, fingering, dry humping, squirting, clit pinching, light masochism, overstimulation, bondage, degrading, possessive and obsessive behavior, scar giving off HEAVY yandere vibes, reader has lightning powers so inappropriate use of lightning powers

notes: in loving memory of scar's onigiri manko😔 dividers from cafekitsune. this is a repost since tumblr is being a bitch🙄

being constantly stalked from the shadows can cause a person to do all sorts of things, y'know?

it started out small.

gifts being left at the front of your doorsteps, flowers, bouquets, sweets and snacks even ranging to weapons or things you needed to make a new weapon being left in the same old gift box. red, with white satin tied up in a cute bowtie at the front. you thought it was a cute way for your little secret admirer to notify "hey, it's me again!" to you each time they leave a gift.

but then, it started to get... a bit odd.

the gifts that used to be left at your doorstep with a knock would now be sitting inside your home. on the couch, the kitchen counter, the bed when you sometimes walk into your bedroom or even on the bathroom counter. the same old red colored box with a white satin in its stupid bowtie. as much as you appreciated this gesture of your secret admirer leaving you all sorts of gifts and presents, it had started to become... creepy. the mere thought of this person stalking you, knowing where you live, constantly coming back over and over to leave a gift for you to now downright breaking into your home.

you notified a midnight ranger of course. who in their sane mind would allow this thing to keep happening, even if they do have powers to protect themselves?

two rangers came by your home. snapping a few photos of the evidence, checking the locks and windows, under the bed, in the attic, basement - almost any and every place someone could hide in and places someone could break in through - they found nothing. whoever this stalker of yours was, they were a good one at getting rid of their traces.

of course, still worried for a citizen, they asked you to stay at a relative or a friend's place for a few days as the two rangers stay behind to capture your stalker when they come back eventually. bad move. the exact next morning, a few more midnight rangers came knocking at your friend's door, asking for your presence. the moment you saw the rangers, you felt a churning feeling in your gut. and you were right to feel that because turns out your stalker had ended up murdering the two rangers who stayed behind, dissecting their hearts and sewing them into one to create the cartoonish heart shape.

all wrapped up in red box and white satin bowtie with blood on the ends. paired with a small note slipped under the bowtie.

"do you like my gifts, darling :)?"

this was getting out of hand. you need to find a way to confront your stalker by yourself and take matters into your own hands. or else, who knows how many more midnight rangers have to die until your stalker comes to you. hell, even your friend could be killed because you chose to stay in their home for the night.

you began with a list of suspects on a notebook. red and white and apparently strong and deranged enough to kill not one but two midnight rangers as if they were still in training. mortefi? no. the researcher was too busy and besides, he's a standing citizen. completely normal and able to keep himself in line without turning into a stalker, fanatic fan. danjin? sure, she was unusually strong for a resonator who had just awakened her tacet marks but she would never kill people over someone she simply adored. encore? now you're the one who is going crazy here, [name].

for a brief moment you thought of a certain someone who had his eyes on you for a little while and wasn't afraid to show his infatuation with you. scar, one of the overseers of the fractsidus organization. one insane bastard, strong enough to kill two rangers as if they meant nothing to him and not to mention, he had a history of stalking you before. the hunch wasn't far fetched but now, all that you needed to prove this theory of yours is to capture your stalker. and if your stalker really is indeed scar, then you needed to teach some sense into him.

carefully, setting up traps in your own bedroom, all the while continuing to act if everything was okay and you weren't feeling eyes digging holes into the back of your skull, you slipped under your covers. turning the lights off, making sure to not exactly clutch your hand to trigger the trap, you closed your eyes as your breathing slows and the windows to your living room slides open.

‘that certainly didn't take long...’ you thought to yourself, entertained by just easy it was to fool your stalker and how quickly they slipped inside your home. just a few minutes after you laid your head on the pillow too.

the sound of footsteps grow closer, light and quick like the pitter patter of raindrops against your window making their way up the stairs and towards your room. your stalker seem to hesitate, their shoes stopping just outside your door as if they were straining their ears to listen to your breathing. as if satisfied with your act of being asleep, the sound of the door to your room opening is heard. the gentle shuffling of clothes and light heel taps making their way into the room. you could hear the box in their hands. that cursed red box with its white satin tied into a bow.

their steps make their way to the side of your bed, on the nightstand beside it as they place down their box of gift with a quiet thud. holding your breath, slowing your breathing as much as possible, you listen on to your stalker. light breathing, a constant shuffling noise and the scent of… ash? that scent gave it away. the scent of ash, sulfur and a very old dried blood.

scar.

of course it was him. of fucking course it was that damned overseer of the fractsidus. an old enemy, a rival and certainly the very same bastard who had a history of stalking you before.

as much as you wanted to jump out of your bed and strangle the bastard by his throat at this very moment, you held yourself back. grinding your teeth slightly in annoyance and biding your time until a clawed finger pushes back a strand of your hair from your face. that was the perfect moment for you to take action, squeezing your hand as the sound if electrical strings is heard, binding scar in his place and hitting him with a high voltage. throwing the blanket off of yourself, you jump away towards the other side of the bed from where scar was. slow and cautious steps towards where a thud is heard, peeking over the edge of the bed, you see his unconscious body. tied up with electrical cords of your making and zapped unconscious.

“yes, it’s me again. that person who was being stalked and gave a call… yeah. i managed to capture my stalker and he’s currently in my bedroom right now. if you could send a few patrollers or midnight rangers, it would be—“

“aww… getting right of me so soon, darling?” scar speaks up, voice scratchy from the earlier stunt you pulled, shaking his head as he tries to clear away any lingering unconsciousness. he wasn’t sharp enough to notice the trap you laid out for him to step into nor was he strong enough to endure the zap of your electricity. not like he minded. he wanted all the time in the world with you and if being tied up and shocked did the trick, he would have it happen to him all the time. as long as it was you who was doing the shocking.

abruptly ending the call — but managing to get through the main point of your call — you turn towards your captive. that annoying scarred face and the lopsided smile that he always has on his face. how much you wanted to wring out his neck to get rid of that smile.

“you look way too happy for someone who got caught” you say, watching him for any sort of movement. nothing. he was just sitting there, kneeled in your floor like a well trained pet all the while keeping an eye on you with those mismatched, puppy eyes.

“what can i say? i slipped and i’m caught. but are these ropes and strings really necessary, darling? you have another plan for me?” he asks, wiggling his shoulders slightly as his smile grows at the furrow of your brows. yes, get angry, get agitated. he loved to see that expression on your face, that anger, that fire. how he wanted to stoke that little ember in your eyes until it turned into a blazing inferno like his own.

“why don’t you learn to shut up first?”

“why don’t you learn to zap me with just enough voltage to make me squirm?”

dear sentinels, this guy was really getting under your skin. he always did and he still does. that annoying smirk, the constant witty banter and the way he would push your buttons all the while whispering filth into your mind.

“bend me over the desk, darling”, “the couch looking painfully empty and clean”, “my zippers are unlocked, y’know?” all sorts of erotic words and suggestions flow from his lips every time he opens them, painting this image in your mind. of him bent over the counter, a quickie in the corner, hell, he even once suggested you to just tear off his jumpsuit and fuck him to your satisfaction in his domain. no one would see or hear you two, as he coos out, dodging your attacks as a red card burns in his hand.

pushing himself up, he trudges his way towards where you stood at the end of your bed, arms still tied behind his back as he leans in close to you. too close. you could smell the sulfur from him even more distinctly now.

“come on, darling. don’t act so cold with me. you and i have known each other for so long, it’s about time we take our relationship to the next level” he coos out, leaning in closer and closer while you lean away from him. until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, causing you to fall back onto the soft mattress while scar climbs on top of you. cheeky bastard was grinning so smugly, straddling your lap like it was his favorite seat in the world. maybe to him, it was.

“in your wet dreams. there’s no relationship between us except for the times we nearly kill each other. that’s it” you hiss, propping yourself up on your elbows to glare at him. the anger in your eyes and the way you easily disregarded him like he was nothing made scar shiver, his hips moving tantalizingly over your groin like he was trying to seduce you.

“oh darling! how did you know i have wet dreams about you? in fact, one of them was just like this! with you under me and having me all tied up♡︎“ scar coos out, his expression brightening like a puppy who just got his favorite treat. sneaky bastard, twisting your words and using them against you while getting what he was after. you were sure this is what he wanted the most. to allow this to happen, to let himself be under your mercy. it didn't surprise you at all.

though, you would be an idiot to say you didn’t recognize it. the signs of arousal that he emitted. the slight flush of his cheeks, the heavier breathing and the wetness coating his and your pants. bastard was getting turned on. but… so were you.

hesitantly, your hand reached for the zipper of his jumpsuit’s crotch, the area already wet with his slick. scar nearly whined at that, moving around on your lap as if trying to get you to unzip it quickly. getting the hint, you did as he wanted. the zipper opening up slowly, his dripping cunt coming on display for you.

“tsk tsk. so eager to get fucked you’re not gonna bother to wear underwear?” you ask, clicking your tongue as your thumb comes up to circle around his enlarged clit. scar nearly stumbles over, his knees buckling as he thrust his hips, trying to get your fingers inside himself already.

“why… would i need to wear one if i’m going to be visiting you, darling?” the pyromaniac groans when your thumb leave his clit, leaving him dripping and clenching around nothing. but his disappointment is short lived when you push a finger inside him, stretching him open and making him gasp out loud. just a single finger, buried to the second knuckle and he was already whining as he tries to ride your finger to the best of his abilities. if his hands were free, he would have placed them on your shoulders for balance as he bounces himself over your fingers.

alas, that was not the case and scar was forced to make do with his current predicament, grinding himself down onto your finger while you watch him unamused. when he tried to bounce on your finger, it slipped out thanks to the excessive slick coating your finger, making him whine at the loss while his cunt eagerly wait for your finger to be back inside him again.

“aanhg—! gyaah… mgghh♡︎♡︎ ohhh darling, you sure know how to please my cunt♡︎” a choked moan comes from him when you push two fingers inside his gummy walls, prodding and fucking him open. knuckles deep inside, you make a scissoring motion, making his knees feel weak as he sits down on your lap, letting you finger him as much as you wanted. he was thoroughly enjoying himself it seemed, as he grinds his hips back and forth, his soft cunt weeping more and more of his juices as they coat your hand.

“you… you really know how to please a cunt, don’t you, darling? all mmgh—! ah anngh ah ah ahh♡︎♡︎ all deep♡︎ and rough♡︎ f-feels like you’re trying to get me to squ-uuuhncckk♥︎♥︎!!” scar trails off, his cocky words dying in his throat, replaced by a shrill squeal when you zapped his cunt with a low electricity. opening his mouth, the pyromaniac tries to say something again only to get cut off by another high pitched scream when you decided to zap both his cunt and clit at the same time.

“like i said, you really should learn to shut your mouth, scar” you tease him, a pleased grin on your face as you take in the mess he had become on your lap. thin trail off drool on his chin, flushed red and hazy eyed. there were even tears forming in his mismatched eyes, looking like he was about to cry.

“m-make meeehnn♡︎♡︎ make me th-then, darling♥︎!“ scar manages to say, a whiny groan falling from his drool covered lips as your fingers pick up their pace, now easily fucking into his loosened hole. filthy lewd shlap! shlap! shlap! could be heard, the wet noises of his cunt mixing together with his punched out moans, turning into a blend of beautifully filthy noises.

“filthy whore who loves to walk around with his pussy out should learn to hold his tongue” you coo out, mocking him for his jumpsuit style as your fingers curl upwards, searching and finding that one spot that caused him to see stars in his eyes. a sharp gasp falling, his head thrown back as his legs shake like a weak lamb’s while your fingers continue to hit that one spot. pushing your knees up, you allow him to lean back on your knees, arms struggling against the strings and ropes while you continue to abuse that bundle of nerves inside his gummy walls.

“shh-shuttt awghhh unngh up!! shut up, dawrlinnggg—♥︎♥︎!!” scar trails off, a wet, punched out wail coming from him as your free hand pinches at his hardened clit. pinching at the bundle of nerves, your fingers squeeze around it simultaneously as the rough pads of your fingers hit his g-spot, making scar let out delirious noises of pleasure. he was far gone to hold a proper conversation with you and you could see that. the tears that were collecting in his mismatched eyes now falling in fat globs, red and grey eyes rolling to the back of his skull as his legs thrash around on the bed.

“dirty dirty boy, look at yourself. not only making trouble for me with your stalker tendencies but also getting my sheets and clothes dirty” you coo out, the fingers that were pinching at his clit tugging on them slightly. scar let out a loud scream at that, throwing his head back as his legs squeeze around your waist tightly as he comes undone on your fingers. but you weren’t planning to stop anytime to soon. you needed to teach him a lesson to stop bothering you while also letting out the pent up anger that he caused by deciding to be a prick.

“who gave you the permission to cum, you filthy whore” you bite out, the anger and annoyance seeping into your tone as your fingers stretch his cunt open, continuing to push against his sweet spot. scar started to sob, the pleasure being too much, nearly bordering on pain but his masochistic spirit wanted you to keep going and to never stop. he wanted both the pain and the pleasure. anything, anything you gave him, he would gladly take greedily.

“dar—! darling!! dawrlinnn’♡︎ ’m sorry... ’m sorry ’m soo showwryy♡︎♡︎♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be soo baawdd♥︎♥︎” scar sobs out, punched out, whiny moans and shrill squeals making it harder to understand what he was saying, but you managed to catch on. despite his words and his wet apologies, you knew he wouldn’t stop being a nuisance at your side. that was just how scar was. unreadable, maniacal and a pain in your ass. so even if he does walk away from your bedroom today with drunken apologies and trembling legs, you knew he would just come back again the next day, searching for more. especially now since he has gotten the taste of how good your fingers could fuck his dripping cunt open until he cries deliriously.

sobbing out apologies mingled with how your fingers were fucking his pretty pussy until it bruises, scar lets out a weak whine whenever you pinch at his clit harder than usual. the occasional violent jolts and squeals falling whenever you zap his gushing cunny, crying about how mean you were.

“mmghhh… go-gonna cum…! gonna cum again♡︎ aamgh eeck♥︎♥︎ g-gonna cum on your f-fingers againn..! d-darling! darlingdarlingdarlingdarl-iiinngh♥︎!!” babbling incoherently about his rapidly nearing release, scar’s head is thrown back, mouth slack open in a silent scream when you zap both his pussy walls and clit at the same time. legs trembling like a lamb’s, threatening to close if it weren’t for your body between them, his body jolts violently as his gushing cunt squirts out his cum, painting your entire hand and pants with his slick.

fingering him through his high, you withdraw your fingers only after he whines for a break, the mess that he created didn’t exactly bothering him as he leans in to steal a kiss from your lips. a dazed attitude, drunken look in his eyes as he shoots you a lopsided grin, scar leans in to whisper when he would be visiting again next time. and he specifically asked for more than just your fingers. the greedy bastard.

“i’ll see ya’ then, darling♡︎!” before you knew it, he pulled out one of his red cards from his back pocket, opening a portal for himself to escape through just as there comes knocks on your front door.

[yandere-sins]

Bad Guy

First Prompt! And I just so happen to find a character that I thought would really match the vibe I wanted to go for. I'm so excited to write for him since I've been mostly keeping out of writing for LaDS, but I do love the characters ♥

Fandom: Love and Deepspace Pairings: Yandere!Sylus x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Dub-Con, BJ, Gagging, Non-Con Touches, Lingerie, Reader is a virgin and inexperienced, Pet names, Degradation, Nicknames), Mention of Body Issues, Forced Captivity, Swear Words, Long Post Prompt: @sintember Innocence - What would you do to preserve it, what will be done to tarnish it?

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"Come now, you make me look like the bad guy."

Legs quivering, you could barely stomach looking down at yourself. It didn't help that you felt how skimpy the outfit was with every move you made. Felt the strings that kept the fabric together pressed into your skin, bit you as if the shame was not enough harm. But looking up and straight ahead was not an option you had either. Not when you knew the smirk on the face that awaited you. Knew about the hungry, predatory sheen in Sylus' eyes if you met them head-on.

Why you? Why did he choose you? You kept wondering as you stood in his bedroom, barely two steps from the man who had ruined your life. You couldn't think of a good reason as to why he needed to keep you to himself, lock you up like an exotic animal, and demand to be the only one to put their eyes on you. Maybe if you had been especially pretty or incredibly rich, his infatuation would have made sense. But it really didn't. None of his actions made sense.

And by now, you didn't even know if you wanted to cry or be angry with him anymore.

The sheer, triangle coverings did nothing to hide, only to expose your nipples, strained as you felt the nubs getting harder. The fabric rubbed them a little more every time you breathed, lungs expanding. Bitterness overcame you as pleasure turned to shame turned to helplessness. You could only stand there, both hands reaching down to hide your privates, all while you heard the man in front of you chuckle.

"Glad to amuse you," you muttered bitterly, biting your lip so hard it tore beneath your teeth. Wearing an outfit that split right around your pussy, giving even easier access than it gave a full view of it, was proof of how you couldn't win against him. If he wanted to, he could be sneaky and uncaring about what you wanted, and forcing you to wear this was yet another challenge he was winning to hold above your head. Sylus had long begun to chip away at any pride or dignity you had, finally ready to deliver the final blow. But although you wanted to break down and cry, hide from the embarrassment, your feeble fighting spirit refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down and beg for your clothes back.

You'd be giving him exactly what he wanted—power.

Power over you. The upper hand in this month-long dispute. You had sought him out for a deal, an equal exchange. And he had broken that deal the moment you put your trust in him just so he could keep you for whatever twisted reason. People had warned you of deals with the devil, but you had been too stupid to listen, now finding yourself in a situation too horrifying to speak of. Captivity.

It wasn't like he made you work to earn your keep. There were three meals provided to you every day, and Sylus tried to join whenever he could. He bought you expensive clothes, accessories, and entertainment, always asking what you needed, but never reflecting on his actions, not even when you told him he couldn't buy your love. There was constant surveillance, and the outside was a threat to your life, so the windows and doors stayed locked tightly. You had no means to escape, only able to stay indoors and wait like a good pet.

"But you are the bad guy here, forcing me to wear this."

Your addition seemed to make him thoughtful, a small hum escaping Sylus before he extended his arm towards you. It was a bad idea, you knew that. But if you refused to take his hand, he'd simply come to get you, and you couldn't afford to struggle looking like this.

Embarrassed, you forced one hand away from hiding what should have never been exposed in front of the likes of the leader of Onychinus, someone you thought would be interested in what you had to offer in exchange for the help you needed. Now, it almost seemed like all he wanted was your body, although you doubted it. You never liked seeing yourself in the mirror, but you didn't know anyone who enjoyed seeing themselves. You just thought it was normal not to feel like you were special, and yet, Sylus made you wear something that hid nothing of your insecurities from him.

A shuddering breath escaped you as his fingers wrapped around your hand like a snake suffocating its victim. But he moved on quickly from the threatening touch, twisting and turning his palm until it slithered beneath yours, fingers entwining before he gave you a jerk, forcing you towards him.

You couldn't help but wonder what changed in that one month, although you were lying if you said you didn't see the change in your captor. You thought he was out for ransom at first, keeping you just for the sake of exploiting more out of you than what you were willing to give. Then you caught him watching you, eyes almost softening as he observed. He'd done more than enough touching and manhandling over the course of the month, but he never forced you to wear lingerie and expose yourself.

Admittedly, your fall wasn't graceful as you were pulled forth. Your legs staggered over the sudden jerk, your free hand coming down just behind Sylus's shoulder. One of your legs hit the edge of the couch, knee bending with nowhere else to go until your shin was settled next to his thigh. You sacked forward, the strength in your torso handicapped from the awkward position, but it was better this way. Anything was better than to look into his face.

"The bad guy, eh? So far, I've been pretty nice to you. I have no idea what you mean."

Sylus played with the skimpy fabric around your waist, rubbing the material between his fingers as if to gouge its value. He was tugging at the strings, threatening to undo the triple knots you had made to keep it all together. All while you were shivering from the cold and the hatred he invoked inside of you.  

Anger flooded your mind, and you threw your head back, ready to let him have it! Too late did you realize he baited you, forcing you to look at him despite your refusal, the grin on his lips disgustingly victorious, his expression almost besotted now that you met his eyes. There was strength to be drawn from your embarrassment, fury brewing in the pit of your stomach. Your free hand curled into a fist, and you fixated your gaze on his stupid face, ready to bash in that smirk he loved to give you so much!

"Not quick enough," Sylus lamented as he caught your fist in his hand, closing around it in a painful grip. You winced, and he brought your arm down, twisting it behind your back while squeezing the other hand he hadn't given up on holding. "Now, now, let's play nice. And here I thought you liked my gift."

Slinging his whole arm around your midriff, Sylus suddenly pulled you on top of his lap, your legs losing balance, and forced your hips down to settle on top of the bulge in his pants. The second your crotch met his, you felt nauseous, the helplessness making you desperate to get away. You hated every second of this interaction, hated this man for all the abuse he put you through. Was this what he had wanted all along? A sex toy? Why wait this long if he intended to defile you anyway?

Even though you tried to be still as a board, when Sylus bent you backward, closely following behind, you shivered as his hot breath grazed over your nipple. You stared down in horror as his tongue slid out, only the tip of it flicking over your nipple before he watched the nub bounce back into place and, using the flat side of his tongue, pressed down onto it. You shuddered, biting your lip again to hold back a moan.

The room wasn't cold, but his breath felt incredibly hot through the mesh fabric of the coverings, his tongue almost like a hot iron pressed to your skin. Sylus looked up, and you saw the agonizing sight of yourself in the reflection of the red irises, exposed and vulnerable. He smirked, opening his mouth just far enough to take your nub between his teeth, pulling it towards him as you sucked in your breath.

You couldn't help it. Couldn't help the pleasure zapping down your spine and between your legs, the mewl that escaped you as Sylus's teeth slipped off your nipple and bit into the mesh fabric. Your reflection looked so pathetic, but he seemed pleased as he kissed your abused nub, as if to appease it after his teasing.

"I heard something interesting," he muttered against your chest, trailing kisses from one side to the other, briefly burying his face in your body and letting out a content rumble. "Heard you've been wholly neglected, poor thing."

"What do you--"

Giving the hand behind your back a firm shake, warning it to stay in place, Sylus released it, only to drive his hand down to your ass. He slipped lower as you piped up, only to silence you again with his touch. It made you realize fairly quickly what he meant, his fingers curiously slipping through your slick.

"That's not true at all," you argued, closing your eyes and shying away from his keen gaze.

"Really now?"

Feeling his lips curl into a grin above your other nipple was an unfamiliar torture, the fabric of the cover transferring every movement dutifully, heightening your sensitivity. "So the reason you are so wet is because you are experienced. Is that what you're saying? You're not a virgin whose anticipation is making you eager, Kitten? Did you secretively hope I'd help you release some of the tension?"

You felt his fingers apply pressure to your cunt, threatening to slip inside and forcing you to shoot upwards, recoiling from the touch. The throb of his cock beneath your slit vanished, and you cursed your body for aching, almost longing to return to his lap. But how could you? At this rate, he was truly going to take your virginity from you, even though you tried to act as if he wasn't.

It was such a stupid sentiment to cling to the concept of virginity, especially in the situation you were in. There could be potential gain by losing it, yet you were holding on to it like a lifeline. Considering that, in one month, you had lost all kinds of things that made your life yours, it was understandable that crossing this line scared you. It was a small rebellion that would prove you weren't completely lost to this man's whims if only you could keep it.

"No! No, wait!" you huffed as his hold on you tightened, trying to keep you in place so he could continue evading every little piece of privacy you still had. If only for your sanity, you had to at least try to conserve it. You weren't keeping yourself for marriage necessarily, but having your first time with the man that kidnapped and imprisoned you would definitely do you no good.

"I'm... I'm unwell! I'll do something else for you, but not this. Let's not go there... Sir."

Halting all his movements, Sylus's brows furrowed, and he leaned back, looking up at you. Of course, you didn't miss how he tensed when you called him Sir, but even though it cost you a lot of your pride to call him that, it was the most you got for a reaction. You could only assume he could see the fake, nonchalant expression you forced, perhaps your embarrassment too. But you hoped it would deter him. When you looked back at him, he almost seemed... concerned. Hopefully, that would be in your favor.

"Are you sick?" he asked, both accusatory and worried at the same time. As if he was offended, you didn't tell him.

"No, I'm... Actually yeah! I feel sick! I got cramps, and I'm sure my period is just around the corner--"

"Darling," he interrupted you, and your heart rate quicked at the sly grin playing around his lips. "You're so adorable when you try to lie, but I'll have you know that a bit of blood has never stopped me.

Tell me the truth, or I'll assume you're just nervous."

Fuck, you thought to yourself, chewing your stinging lip again as you thought about what to do. Sylus returned back to your chest, pressing his lips to your unattended nipple again before sucking it in for a tease. You drew in your breath sharply as you thought about a lesser evil to deter him from taking your last strand of dignity, the one thing you could hold over his head. But it would cost you greatly to protect your virginity, and you almost wavered in your determination to keep it a secret.

"I'll... I'll suck you off."

Sylus stilled, and you saw his eyes widening. For a moment, no one said anything, and although it was hard to endure his inquiring gaze, you forced yourself to face it head-on, showing him you meant it. One of his eyes felt especially exposing, the red so much more vibrant. But just a moment later, his lips curled into a wide smirk, freeing your nipple as he drew back.

His expression was almost soft as he gazed over your body, all the way down to where your hips met. You saw the longing in his gaze and felt the throbbing of his cock against your pussy, but then he looked up at you again, and for a moment, you felt adoration wash over you. Approval, genuine desire.

And it was gone right the next second.

Before you knew it, Sylus lifted you off his lap. You yelped in surprise, only to sink to your knees, his legs spread widely to comfortably accommodate you between them. "Alright then," Sylus chuckled. "Show me what you got."

Another wave of shameful heat rushed into your head as you watched the cocky bastard wait for you to stick to your words. Excitement and impatience radiated from the way he looked down at you to the tapping of his food next to your thigh. He'd not wait forever for you to act, but he was enjoying your hesitation.

Swallowing hard, your mouth had never felt as dry as it was now. With jittery hands, you reached upwards, seeing the stains you had left on his trousers and feeling the heat underneath your palms. But before you could unzip Sylus's pants, he caught your wrists in his grip, clicking his tongue at you, chastizing.

"I'm sure you know a more creative way to start this."

You were disgusted by the thought, but even a virgin like you could imagine what he wanted. Lifting your butt off the floor, you placed your teeth around the zipper, slowly dragging it down. Sylus chuckled, but to your surprise, when you looked up at him angrily, he let go of your wrists and looked away, hiding his full face from you. Was he ashamed? Mocking you? Or did he enjoy seeing you opening his trousers with your teeth that much?

You used the moment of freedom for your hands to unbutton the pants on top, completely taken aback when without the restraints of underwear, his cock sprung free, surprise and horror overcoming you. "You're not the only one who was anticipating this," Sylus clarified, and although he still hid his face behind his hand, the gleam in his eye was as mischievous as ever.

Bastard, you thought, but a small part of you wondered if he had been walking around in just his pants all day or if he changed out of his underwear before meeting with you. It was a completely scientific question of course! You needed to know how long he anticipated and planned this. If his sudden carnal desire had been a surprise or a long time coming, although you never thought it existed.

"Are you giving up already, Sweetheart?" Sylus tore you out of your thoughts. "Less scowling, more sucking."

For the record, you didn't do as he instructed because he told you to. You did it because you wanted to get it over with. You kept telling yourself this, over and over, even as you brushed your fingertips over his length. But there was one problem. One you couldn't tell him about.

You had no idea what to do.

Of course, the general concept of a blowjob was familiar to even you, but how were you going to pull it off? Was it enough to take it into your mouth? Did you need to kiss it? Would it taste bad? Could you even put your lips around it?

There was no time to panic and let Sylus find out you were an inexperienced virgin with no idea what you were doing. His cock bopped impatiently in front of you, waiting for your caress, and you had to please it regardless of not knowing how.

Reaching up, you wrapped a hand around it, steadying it with your grip. The stiff feeling surrounded by soft skin was almost mesmerizing, leaving you in a moment of awe before you returned to reality. You expected something rougher, more like its owner, but the heat and eagerness spoke of vulnerability more than Sylus's usual domineering ways.

There was a click of his tongue from above, and you knew your time was running out. Giving him a coy glance from below, you leaned forward, steading yourself on Sylus's thighs to kiss the throbbing cock in your hand. You felt his leg tense beneath your palm, then relax, and when he neither mocked nor pushed you away, you concluded you were onto something.

Kissing a trail up the shaft, you smoothed over his cock, taking note of the ridges and veins that seemed to pop out the longer you were giving it attention. Soon, you reached the edge of the tip, the form of his shaft dipping into itself for a moment before forming the bulb on top. It was so fascinating that, for a moment, you forgot the situation you were in, your tongue dipping out to lick along the edge out of curiosity.

Sylus drew in a sharp breath, and you looked up with more inquisitiveness. For the first time, you saw an expression akin to pain on his face. You wondered if you were hurting him somehow before satisfaction hit you. Red was drawn along his cheeks, and you realized it was pleasure and not pain; the firmness of his expression was merely showcasing that he was holding back. How gracious.

Slipping the flat of your tongue over his tip, you soon brushed your lips over it. Cock jerking, the tender flesh jumped against your mouth, smearing a strange-tasting liquid all over it. Precum, you thought to yourself, recognizing that this meant you were doing something right.

It almost got you excited.

You remembered the way Sylus had played with your nipples, the teasing and sucking. The way he forced you to feel pleasure despite not wanting to, and it gave you an idea of how to return the favor. If it worked on you, it might just work on him the same way! Sure, he wanted this, but you'd not make it easy on him!

Wrapping your mouth around the tip, you began to suck gently, drawing your lips lightly back and forth and wetting the top to make it more smooth. Sylus groaned, his right hand coming down to cup yours on top of his thigh, pressing it into the muscles there.

"That's it, Kitten," he mumbled, and you felt his hand brush up your neck and into your hair. Immediately, you drew back, staring at him with your mouth forced shut. His cock bopped in complaint, and Sylus's expression hardened, but you challenged him with your glare.

"No forcing it," you established, getting great satisfaction from his annoyance. "You will let me do it."

"Fine," he spat out. "Hope you got a bit more than that, though. Otherwise, we'll be here forever, Sweetheart."

"Fuck you," you bit back, not waiting for him to respond before putting your lips back around his cock. This time, you went deeper, his tip brushing your teeth as you weren't used to his size yet. His hand sunk back to the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands of hair there. You could feel him testing out the boundaries of your rules, applying pressure softly ever so often. Still, after you drew back one more time, he gave up, the warmth of his palm remaining unmoving at the back of your head.

"No fun," he complained, but his words had no bite. They were followed by a soft groan, Sylus's head rolling to the side as he watched you work your way down his shaft. It was more strain than you expected, his cock seemingly never-ending, even when you forced it deeper than anything ever before. You'd not accept defeat, not let him win this round, especially after coming this far!

But it was nasty. Drool dripped down your chin, and your sucking became more and more sloppy. You barely had enough strength or training with your tongue to keep up an even pace, and your desperation to get this over with made everything quite boring, evident by Sylus not reacting like you thought he would while you worked your mouth over his cock.

"Is this your first time?" he finally asked, and you grimaced, mouth full of cock and exposed anger burning in your eyes.

Sylus smirked, and you knew that he knew.

"Did you really think you could hide the fact from me that you have no idea what you're doing? Come let me help."

Without waiting for your response, he pressed your head forward, tears shooting to your eyes as the newly reached deepness pried your jaw open. "Now, use your tongue and lick upwards all the way. Slowly."

You hated this! You hated him! You hated this man so much!

"That's it, Kitten."

Pulling you back by the roots of your hair, the strain disappeared, but all the drool and fluids pooled inside your mouth, making you cough. Sylus showed you no mercy, even after seeing you struggle to keep yourself together.

"Now the tip again, just like the beginning. You need to alternate sometimes."

Reluctantly, you opened your mouth again, willing the pain away as you began to suck and lick at his tip. The next time Sylus pushed you forward, you braced yourself, although he didn't go as deep, instead bopping your head back and forth. As much as you hated following his instructions, you did the same with your tongue as when he forced you to take it in completely, moving the muscle along the sides while Sylus directed your head.

This time, he let out a loud, content sigh, his head falling back. His pressure never stopped, though, sometimes slamming you forward to dangerous depths again, other times letting you rest at his tip. There was a steady increase in speed, and you felt the control slip from you pitifully as he worked you up and down his shaft as he pleased. Were you just a sex toy to him? That's what you wondered as the first tears fell, your reflection so pitiful in Sylus's eyes.

Although, he seemed ecstatic for some reason.

His nails dug into your hand still on his thigh as he pushed you steadily deeper with every thrust of his head. Soon, you felt the tickle of the fabric of his pants against your nose, his cock taking up all the space in your mouth as it throbbed. You, too, dug your nails into his thigh as you heard Sylus breathe heavily, knowing all too well what was going to happen now.

You couldn't believe he'd be so barbaric, knowing it was your first time, as to force you to take all of his dick inside as he came. But with a slight thrust of his hip and his hand pressing down at the same time, you were caught with his cock throat-deep as hot splurts of semen sprayed everywhere. Sylus grunted as he came, and you couldn't help but splutter, gagging on the length shoved down your throat, and almost fainted from the lack of air as he waited until the very last drop of his cum to be emptied inside of you.

If not for his cock stuffing your mouth, you might have thrown up from disgust.

He was breathing heavily while your lungs barely shuddered. As if he regained clarity, Sylus suddenly pulled you off him, and his cum spilled from your lips together with his cock. Tears, semen, and drool all dripped from your pitiful face, and you two stared at each other, both a little less lucid than before.

The hand at the back of your neck slipped forward, thumb grazing over the side of your mouth before he slipped it inside. A grin spread over his lips; this time, he looked nothing short of insane from the satisfaction as he pushed the fluids back into your mouth, seeing the remnants of the havoc he wrecked. But then his expression grew soft, and you hated to admit it, but this was probably the gentlest look he had ever given you.

"Good job, Darling."

You choked as you held back a sob. The situation was so maddening it was almost funny. Just seconds ago, it felt like he'd kill you with his dick, and now he was praising you, looking at you as if you were the greatest treasure in this world.

But you didn't have the time to lament. Not even a moment later, you were pulled from the ground, set down pussy to cock on his lap, feeling the sticky heat from his crotch matching your own. You hadn't even noticed your own arousal, the way your body found appropriate to act. It only shamed you more.

"You were so pretty down there, doing amazing, Darling."

Next thing you knew, he had toppled you over and laid you down on the couch beside him while your eyes widened. You snapped your legs shut immediately, although his hands roaming downwards snaked their way between them. Looking at you, unblinking, a victorious smile played along Sylus's lips before he effortlessly pried your legs apart, not even breaking a sweat.

"We said only sucking off!" you mewled, part scared, part frustrated. What else did you need to do to make him stop? Why was he doing all of this? Why did it have to be you?

Resting his lips on your thigh, Sylus kissed it briefly, eyes closed, appearing almost reverent as he peppered some more kisses.

"You said that," he finally muttered against your skin, and all the hope to make him see reason in the end was lost with just a few words. "I am going to return the favor now. Can't let anyone think I'd not take good care of my Darling."

"You are so mean," you whispered, tears now falling freely. You didn't care anymore if he saw them. If they could soften his heart—good! If not, it didn't matter anymore. He was going to do what he wanted anyway; there was nothing you could do but to let him.

"Sure, I can be mean," Sylus chuckled, but his expression darkened. It was unlike his usual cockiness, and it infuriated you. How dare he feel upset about your comment! How dare he wallow in your misery! Your pain wasn't his to share! He didn't get to feel bad from seeing you hurt by the actions he inflicted!

So why did he look like you were the one hurting him?

"After all..." he mumbled, leaning forward until his face hovered over yours. For a moment, he simply stared at you, and you wondered what he could find in your terrified gaze. How far he could really look into your soul and if that would deter him or if he'd still choose to ignore your feelings in all of this like he had ever since he locked you up.

"You made me the bad guy, Darling."

[honeyedmiller]

Mr. Bakery Man

baker!joel miller x f!reader

rating: none

synopsis: it’s not every day you get to move from nyc to austin for your job and relish in a pleasant change of pace. it’s also not every day that you discover a cute family owned bakery in the heart of austin—and it’s definitely not every day that you meet the owner and fall head over heels for him.

warnings: this is pure, innocent tooth-rotting fluff ; fun flirting, we’ll call this one a hallmark type beat lol, sarah and ellie are both in this, joel is down bad in this (but so is reader), no use of y/n.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was supposed to be for @punkshort’s au writing challenge but i’m hella late on it. life has been crazy lately, but thanks for sticking with me during my unintentional hiatus 🤍

Moving from New York City to Austin Texas had been an oddity in life’s recent escapades. 

Your job had asked if anyone in your department was willing to do the big move because the office in Austin needed a strong journalist on their growing team. With the rest of your colleagues having kids and spouses, nobody was interested in uprooting their whole life to move to a completely different state. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to get out of New York. You yearned for new opportunities, and when this one arose, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boss you were interested. 

You’d been slowly settling into Austin, getting used to life in another city with a completely different atmosphere. You were grateful your new colleagues were all very nice and welcoming. 

The one thing you’d say you missed dearly back in New York City, though, was this amazing bakery off of Fifth you’d frequent before work. Their coffee and croissants were delicious, which is what led you to go on a Google hunt to see what bakeries were good around here in Austin. 

One caught your eye immediately—Sarah & Ellie’s— with five star reviews and multiple photos of all the sweets they had to offer. It was a cozy little café and bakery mixed into one with a homey, warm vibe and cute decorations. You mapped it to see how long it would take you to get to the place, and to your luck, it was only a ten minute walk from your apartment complex. So, you decided you were going to go first thing in the morning before work. 

And for some reason, you felt excited to try a new place. Maybe it was a sign of finally getting used to living in a completely different state, fifteen hundred miles away from your old life. 

You luckily got used to being an early riser, so once morning had rolled around, you were up n’ at ‘em by six thirty. You left your house around seven, making your way down to Sarah & Ellie’s. 

The shop felt more homey than it looked online. As soon as you stepped in, there was already a short line of customers and a waft of delicious baked goods and coffee that filled your senses. You suddenly yearned for a home you’d never even been to. 

You stood in line and observed the menu, deciding on sticking with a classic chocolate croissant and latte for the time being. You wanted to see if this place held a candle up to the place off of Fifth. 

The older gentleman in front of you greeted the cashier with a bright smile, and she immediately typed in an order. 

“Hey Randy, how’s it going?” 

“Hey sweet pea. Just here for my usual mornin’ coffee and danish,” he says, handing the girl a ten dollar bill. She counts out the change and closes the register with her hip before returning his beaming smile to him. “Tell your old man to stop workin’ so damn hard. Cheryl says I need to lay off the sweets once in a while, but I can’t do that if all his baked goods are too delicious to resist.” Randy pats his stomach with a satisfied hum, and the girl laughs. 

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have a good one!” 

After she waves him off, she locks eyes with you and gives you the same beaming smile as you stepped up to the register. 

“What can I get ya, Miss?” she asks, tone cheery and light. 

“I’ll take a chocolate croissant and a latte, please.” 

She nods and rings in your order, grabbing a cup to write your name on it. 

“Not to intrude or anything, but are you new ‘round here?” Her tone is still light, laced with pure curiosity as the sharpie pen hovers over the latte cup. 

You gave her a smile and nodded meekly, “I am.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.” 

You give her your name and her smile never wavers, scribbling your name on the cup. 

“Let me get that chocolate croissant for you—” she started, but was accidentally cut off by a man opening the door that separated the front of the café from the back. 

“Hey babydoll, do we have anymore—” the man stops abruptly, eyes landing on you. A black apron adorned his clearly thick and strong physique, flour dusted on his hands and arms. He was tall, and had a sweet glint in his brown eyes that made warmth flood your whole body. He had a head full of thick brown curls with grays strewn in here and there, and the mustache along with the stubble on his chin mirrored the streaks in his hair.

He instantly gave off a charming aura, and when he smiled at you, you were a goner. 

“Hello Miss. Don’t think we’ve ever met before,” he says, dusting his hands off on the apron before extending one to you. His Southern accent dripped like thick, pure honey, and it made your skin burn hot. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile when you reached your hand out to shake his. It might’ve sounded cliché as hell, but the sudden surge you got from just touching him made every single cell in your body alert, yearning for more. 

“I’m new in the city,” you explain, “Just moved here not too long ago.” 

“Ah, makes sense. Think I’d remember ya even if you didn’t come in often.” 

You’re taken aback by his words. Was he… flirting? You felt your face heat, and your eyes nervously flit to the glass case full of delicious looking pastries. Well, if he was flirting, there’s no harm in doing it back… right? 

“Me coming in often depends,” you find yourself grinning like a fool, “Do your pastries taste as good as they look and smell?” 

“They’re the best in Austin,” he winks, and with that, murmurs something to Sarah before giving you one last smile before walking to the back again. 

Sarah can’t help but giggle as she hands you your croissant. “It’s on the house,” she waves her hand as you pull out your wallet, and you stop short to give her a confused look. She clocks the expression on your face and grins. “Dad said.” 

“That’s your dad?” You didn’t mean to pry, you were just taken aback. 

“Mhm. Family owned and operated bakery,” you immediately hear the pride in her voice, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll have your latte out in a minute.” 

You grin and nod, stepping over to the other side of the counter. You decided to take a bite of your croissant while you waited for your latte, and god, it was the best pastry you think you’d ever had. The croissants on Fifth had nothing against these gooey, decadent, flaky treats. 

You nearly had to hold back a moan, and the man—Randy, you think—laughed beside you. 

“Good, ain’t they?” he asks, and you nodded expeditiously. 

“Probably the best croissant I’ve ever had.” 

Randy nods in agreement, “Miller’s the best baker in Austin. Been comin’ here since his girls were little.” 

And you finally figured that Ellie must be his other daughter. It warmed your heart that he’d name his place after his two girls, clearly his pride and joy. 

“That’s so nice,” you say, and give him a quick wave goodbye when his order is called out. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you again soon,” Randy shot you a smile before taking a sip of his drink, and you nod at him with a smile before you turn your attention to your name being called out. Sarah handed you your drink and you thanked her, taking a cautious sip. 

Even the latte was superb. You were one hundred percent sold on this place, and maybe even a little smitten with the owner. 

Yeah, you’d definitely be coming back. 

-

A month passes by before you know it, and you’re now deemed an honorable regular at Sarah & Ellie’s. You’ve met Ellie, who was a total opposite of her sister—but you loved both of their personalities all the same. You learned that Ellie was going to art school and you promised her you’d buy a commissioned piece. 

Sarah was going to school for business, studying to take over the bakery one day, and possibly even expand it as a franchise. You told her you’d be at the grand opening the day that it happens. 

As for the owner, Mr. Miller—or, Mr. Bakery Man, you teasingly called him—kept the flirting subtle but fun. You looked forward to the playful banter you two’d exchange, and it always earned a raised brow and a not-so-subtle smirk from either Sarah or Ellie. 

Unbeknownst to you, they’d tease their father about the ‘crush’ he had on the pretty regular that came in and how he should buck up and ask you on a date. 

And he planned to do just that. When you went in on a Saturday morning, you were surprised to see him working the front counter instead of one of the girls. 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bakery Man,” you say, and he runs a hand through his hair. 

“In the flesh,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Girls didn’t come in today?” You lean up against the counter as he grabs a latte cup, writing your name out on it. He hesitates for a moment, but continues to write on it before setting it down on the opposite countertop. 

“Nah. Sarah was up late doing homework and it’s Ellie’s turn to have Saturday off.”

You nod in understanding, pulling out your wallet. He stops you and shakes his head, and you scoff. 

“You have to let me pay, Mr. Miller. You can’t keep giving me these discounts.” 

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” his smile was shy, and he was fidgety—almost like he was scared. Right when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, he cut you off. 

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” His words were rushed, and your heart melted at how nervous he sounded. 

You paused your movements completely, meeting those warm brown eyes that made you feel so safe. 

“I’d love to,” you answered, and relief visibly washed over his features. 

“Great. I, uh, wrote my name and number on your cup. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, and you have to bite back a smile. Then you suddenly realized you never even knew this man’s first name. You’d just stuck with calling him the nickname you gave him, or by his last name. 

You took the cup from him gingerly as he finished making your drink a few minutes later, and turned it in your hand to see his name and number scrawled on the side as promised. 

Joel. 

The name fit the gorgeous man in front of you. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and your palm landed on his insanely toned bicep with reassurance. 

He stared at you, the warmth in his eyes nearly making you weak in the knees. 

“I promise I’ll call you,” you say, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. Your hand falls to your side again before grabbing the croissant from the counter that you didn’t notice until now, and you eagerly took a bite. 

Joel wanted to laugh at the chocolate on the side of your mouth as you tilted the pastry toward him. He restrained himself from reaching up and wiping it from your mouth, but you beat him to it by using your knuckle to wipe it off. 

“Compliments to the chef.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows. 

He couldn’t help but admire your playful side, ecstatic that you agreed to go out with him. 

“Anythin’ for you darlin’,” he said, and you left the bakery that day with a smile on your face that you couldn’t wipe. 

That night, you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your phone was clutched in your hand, keypad open and ready to dial. Your other hand had the empty coffee cup with his name and number. 

You didn’t know why you were battling this in your head. Is it weird? Is it too late to call him? No—No, it’s not weird. He’s the one who asked you out, after all. 

Fuck it. 

You sighed as you dialed the number on the cup, pressing the phone up to your ear. Within seconds, Joel’s deep voice rang through the other line. 

“Hello?” He sounded a bit tired, voice hoarse from what had to be a long day. 

“Hey Mr. Bakery Man,” you said in hopes of lifting his spirits even in the slightest. 

His deep chuckle that sounded through the receiver had a warmth blooming in your chest. Even his laugh alone made you feel good inside—like a cup of hot cocoa in your hands on a cold night while you’re in your pajamas sitting fireside. 

Did it sound kind of insane? Sure. Did you care? No. 

The feelings you’d felt toward him almost blindsided you, but something in your gut told you that Joel would be a constant in your life from here on out. 

“Hey darlin’. How’s your day been?” He asks. 

“Good, good,” you pause for a moment, “So about that date…” 

“I was thinkin’ some dinner? Friday night at seven?” 

“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.” 

-

Friday night rolled around, and Joel was kicking himself for not exactly having a plan B. For some reason, the reservations he made got mixed up and you couldn’t be seated. 

You assured him that it was okay, and that his presence was enough for you to enjoy yourself. 

You both decided to get some pasta to-go and eat your food at a park nearby. Even though you both were dressed to the nines and didn’t exactly blend in, you couldn’t care less. You were enjoying your time with him and getting to know the amazing man that he is. 

He opened up and talked about how Sarah and Ellie were both his pride and joy, how he had Sarah really young and adopted Ellie later on, how he sometimes helped his brother Tommy in the contracting business, and how he’s loved to bake in the kitchen with his mom ever since he was a young boy. 

“Didn’t really think I’d make a career out of it,” he confesses. 

“Looks like it worked out for you really well though,” you nudge his side gently. You were settled onto a bench with him then, closer to each other than anticipated. Neither of you said a word, though. 

Being by Joel’s side radiated nothing but safety and comfort. It felt natural, like you two were meant to find your way to each other. 

“Guess so. ‘S funny though. I meet new people every day because of the bakery and, forgive me ‘f this is too bold to say, but meeting you has completely thrown me off my game,” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows. 

“What do you mean?” You try not to feign hurt in your tone, but he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you into his warm body. You’re engulfed in his scent, and you could stay here forever, you thought to yourself. 

“Don’t mean it as a bad thing, sweetheart. I mean you’ve been on my mind constantly, and truth be told, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to go on this date with me. ‘M not really one to put myself out there and go on dates, but somethin’ about you made me want to get to know ya more,” he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding. 

“I get it. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved out here. I always buried myself in work and didn’t pay much attention to dating someone, but I’d like to say this turn of events has been pleasant.” 

He can’t help but grin foolishly at your words. 

“‘M glad it worked out this way too. Y’know my girls pushed me to ask you out? Not that I didn’t want to in the first place, but ‘m… not very good at this,” he waves his hand to the side.  

You could easily picture Sarah and Ellie giving Joel a hard time, hounding him to ask you out. 

“Your girls know what’s best,” you tease, and he can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “But you’re doing just fine, Mr. Miller. I promise.” 

“Even if I goofed and our reservation got messed up?” 

“Joel, I wouldn’t care if you took me to Whataburger for a date. It’s the company that matters,” you say, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. 

“Where have you been all my life?” His question sounded like it was meant to be directed just to himself, but you leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss. 

“Probably in New York City,” you shrugged. 

“You and your sarcasm,” he said, shoulders shaking from laughing. 

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out. That’s on you,” and Joel couldn’t help the pride that bloomed within his chest. 

“Sure did. What do ya say? Wanna head back to the bakery for a cup of coffee and croissant?” 

“What, like a nightcap, but sweet?” You grinned, and he nods. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

“I’d love to.” 

Joel offered you his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, staying close to him as you both walked back to his truck. 

It didn’t take long to get back to the bakery. Joel made you some coffee with creamer and sugar while he drank his black. He made you a croissant too as promised, and you couldn’t help but gush to him about how you loved his baking. You’d tried a few other things off the menu since you started coming into the shop, but the croissants were what stole your heart. 

You and him sat there for what seemed like hours just talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. You told him about your family, your dreams and aspirations, what made you want to become a journalist, and what drove you to reach your goals. 

He loved that you were so ambitious—he didn’t come across too many people these days that seemed to know exactly what they wanted in life. You impressed him, and as he sat across from you listening to you talk about work, he knew you were the woman for him. 

He would’ve deemed himself crazy not even a few months ago for thinking such a thing, but hell, if you know you know. 

So the months passed by, and you two became inseparable.

Both of you didn’t think you’d meet someone like this, let alone someone you both could see sharing a life with. This man, all kind hearted and selfless and a big teddy bear who treated you like a goddess, was the man that swept you off your feet and made you see that work isn’t everything life had to offer. 

You took that leap of faith to move to Austin, not knowing the outcome it would have. But, you sure as hell were so glad that it happened. That this thing with Joel happened. You were decently happy with your life before you met him and let him in, but now, you felt as if you’d been on cloud nine for months. 

You were helping Joel close up the bakery one Sunday evening when he turned to you and confessed that he loved you, and he couldn’t imagine his life without you. Neither could the girls. You’d changed him for the better, even if it hadn’t even been a year of knowing each other. 

You’d said it right back to him, and with flour still lingering on his hands, he’d grabbed your face and kissed you like you were the air his lungs needed, the blood to keep his heart pumping, and his god-given solace. 

And you thought, this was exactly where you were meant to be—safe in his arms, full of love, with a whole lifetime with him to look forward to. 

He was it for you. You'd won the heart of the charming Southern gentleman—your Mr. Bakery Man. 

dividers by @saradika-graphics

p.s. sorry if this sucked i’m genuinely so rusty w writing rn. thanks for understanding <3